


I Tried to Warn You

by The_Mouse_of_Anon



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Trigger Warning: Emotional Abuse, brutal as hell nightmare sequence, subtle emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Mouse_of_Anon/pseuds/The_Mouse_of_Anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>La'gaan's relationship with M'gann wasn't healthy. It wasn't that <em>all</em> of what she had done to La'gaan (and Conner before him) was on purpose, but that didn't change the effect her actions had.</p>
<p>TRIGGER WARNING: Emotional abuse of the subtle variety and lots of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Tried to Warn You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, several things: This fic was born out of observing all the creepy and abusive things M’gann did in Young Justice (both to Conner/Superboy and La’gaan/Lagoon Boy) and not having seen it being really addressed in a coherent or honest way in most fics that I’ve seen. That said, this isn’t intended as a M’gann-bashing fic, but more as a way to portray the serious issues I see with her behavior.
> 
> There are scenes in this fic that I have taken the speaking lines verbatim from the series. This is written entirely from La’gaan’s point of view and headspace, and because I take emotional abuse and its effects seriously, there is a _lot_ of potentially upsetting and triggering thought circles because I wanted to present that hell _accurately_. There is also a nightmare-sequence that is potentially traumatic as hell.
> 
> (There will eventually be a much happier follow-up fic to this one, but when I write that one I’ll make sure you don’t have to read this one to know what’s going on.)
> 
> **GIANT TRIGGER WARNING:** Emotional abuse of the subtle variety and lots of it.
> 
> Also, because I feel it needs to be said: If you ever feel that you are being emotionally abused or abused in any other way, _get help_. No one should have to go through that.

“I tried to warn you.” 

Those words… Those _damned_ words… La’gaan wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rant and swear in every language he knew while tearing something apart. He wanted to use his claws on Conner’s face. And he wanted to curl in a ball and cry.

“I tried to warn you.”

Conner had been right. Conner had been absolutely right, and La’gaan didn’t want him to be. Conner had been right about M’gann, and that realization made La’gaan feel like his heart had been ripped out and crushed into oblivion right in front of his face. He hadn’t wanted to believe that she lied, that she was manipulative, that she had been using him. He’d _loved_ her. She had been everything to him— sweet, adorable, lovable, with that cute little smile of hers that made his knees go weak, his Angelfish. He had wanted _so much_ for Conner to be wrong…

“I tried to warn you.”

It had been easy at first, dismissing Conner that is. He was a pain in the ass. A grouch. It was easy to believe that he was just M’gann’s slightly creepy possessive ex who didn’t want her to be with anyone else. It was easy to believe at first that Conner had just been trying to sabotage the relationship when he had quietly taken La’gaan aside at one point and said, “I don’t think you going out with M’gann is a good idea. I don’t think you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into.” It had been easy to dismiss Conner’s repeated off-and-on comments of, “She is _manipulating_ you. And I don’t think you realize it. Seriously La’gaan, for your own sake, _stop and think_.” It had been easy.

“I tried to warn you.”

If he hadn’t been so set on dismissing Conner, would he have paid attention to how things felt off sooner? If he hadn’t been so convinced that Conner had some almost-obsessive need to keep M’gann from getting together with anyone else, would he have not excused the little manipulative things she’d done? Would he have stopped and told himself that her being an alien was no excuse for the problematic things she had done sooner? He had though. He had given her every excuse. He had explained away almost everything she had ever done that had felt wrong. He had told himself time and time again that it was probably just a cultural conflict, that she didn’t understand that some of the things she did were problematic because in her culture those things probably _weren’t_ problematic. He had told himself that the things she did weren’t serious, that there was no reason to bring it up because then he’d be making a big deal out of comparatively nothing. He had told himself that what was important was that she was happy. He hadn’t stopped to realize he’d been letting too much slide.

“I tried to warn you.”

When La’gaan had finally realized what was happening… it hurt. It hurt a lot. She had been tearing apart people’s minds and excusing it because they were ‘bad guys’. It had always been temporary though. _Always_ temporary. It felt wrong, but… but it usually only happened during those times when they needed information quickly and the people she did it to wouldn’t budge about giving that information. La’gaan had excused it. It was temporary. It wasn’t permanent. After the people recovered they seemed fine. It had been… okay. But it wasn’t.

“I tried to warn you.”

The first time she did it in front of J’onn, _that_ was when La’gaan realized something was wrong. From what La’gaan had seen on the video feed in the control room, J’onn looked genuinely disturbed. But if it had been just ‘a Martian thing’ he wouldn’t have been disturbed, right? La’gaan had known he had to talk to M’gann about it. But… he’d let so much slide. He had ignored so much… La’gaan had felt that he didn’t have much room to really lecture her, but as her boyfriend he felt like it was his responsibility to talk to her. So he’d tried to talk to her, to ask or at least suggest that she not tamper with people’s minds like that anymore because it was freaking others out. He’d tried… and then without getting into his head she had turned every last ounce of manipulative skill she had _on him_.

“I know it’s bad La’gaan.” Her tone and her words had been so persuasive. “And I don’t like doing it—” She had appealed to his sympathies. “—but you know as well as I do that the situation is really bad and that every minute counts.” She had excused it. “I know that I need to stop, and I know that it’s bad…” She had lured him in. “…but I’m just so scared that if we waited that we’d be too late.” She had condoned it. “Please… La’gaan… When this is all over I’ll do what I have to in order to make it up to everyone. Okay?” She had looked like she was nearly in tears. And like a fool he had opened his arms to her. She had clung tight, the threat of her crying so close that La’gaan had almost been able to feel it, like an unquantifiable physical ache. “Please don’t tell anyone. Not until later. And…” She had hesitated, luring him in that last inch, breaking down his last inch of resolve. “…Could you let me be the one to tell them? I’m the one doing it. It’s my mistake.” And he had given in. He had given in even though there was a part of him that was loudly telling him that staying silent about what she was doing was wrong. He had given in because if he had said ‘no’ she would have cried. He had given in despite having that nagging sense that she _knew_ how important her happiness was to him. He had given in despite having a nagging sense that even after it was all over she wouldn’t say a thing. He had given in… and it wasn’t until now that he’d realized that her unspoken threat of tears had been every bit as effective as if she’d threatened to hurt him if he said anything.

“ _I tried to warn you._ ”

Her words and her tone had said ‘trust me’ and ‘obey me’, and La’gaan had caved as if he’d had no resistance at all. Before being with M’gann, La’gaan had had a hard time understanding how anyone could _not_ realize when they were being abused, much less how a person in that situation might not even think to fight it. He hadn’t been able to understand that someone abusive took the time to wear someone down until the other person wouldn’t even think to fight. He hadn’t realized that a lot of the time being abused didn’t mean you were getting hit. He hadn’t realized that she had worked her way in, twisted and manipulated, until the slightest hint of her displeasure was more than he could reasonably handle. She had looked about ready to cry, and La’gaan felt as though he may as well have been dragged over hot coals. And the worst part of it was that at the time it hadn’t occurred to him that _anything_ was wrong with that.

“I tried to warn you.”

Then there had been what happened to Kaldur, how she had shattered his mind. La’gaan hadn’t known at the time that he wasn’t a traitor, and when he’d heard about it from Beast Boy he had just assumed that she had done to Kaldur what she had done to everyone else whose minds she had scrambled. He had assumed it was temporary. He’d thought it had been justified because he’d believed Kaldur had killed Artemis. He was wrong.

“I tried to warn you.”

And then there had been the fact that he had noticed Conner glaring at her, directing disapproving looks in her direction and the way she’d go silent when she noticed. It had worried La’gaan. She wasn’t happy, something was wrong, and it had looked as if Conner might have been the one at fault. La’gaan had been _consumed_ with the need to try to help fix whatever was going on, only… she avoided him. When he tried calling her she wouldn’t answer his calls. He tried leaving messages and texting her, but all of it went ignored. La’gaan had been left wondering if he’d done something or said something to make her upset, wracking his mind for something he could have done to set her off so that if he could just figure it out he could apologize to her. But there was nothing; nothing that he could think of, nothing that he had forgotten, nothing that he had said… he always complemented her cooking. Had he maybe made a face when it came to that batch of cookies she had accidentally burned the week before the encounter with Kaldur and Tigress? He hadn’t thought he had— but if he had, was she upset about that? But what if he tried to apologize for it and he hadn’t done it? Wouldn’t that make her upset that he thought she was upset with him for something that hadn’t happened? Though none of the rest of the team had been aware of it, the circles his mind had gone in had been enough to make him break down when he’d been alone in his room— all while quietly pleading, “I wish you’d tell me what I did wrong.” Sure, he had been able to keep it together in front of the others and put on a brave face like it didn’t bother him (or at least as much as it actually did), but when he had been alone it had been too much.

“I tried to warn you.”

Finally La’gaan had tried to speak to her face-to-face. He needed to know; he needed to know if she was upset with him and what he could do to fix it if that was the case. He had dreaded the conversation, but he still managed to keep it together enough to say, “So Angelfish, can we go somewhere private? To talk?” The fact that she had automatically glanced at Conner, who had given her another one of those disapproving glares before walking out of the room, had left La’gaan feeling like he had been speared through the heart.

“Um, sure La’gaan. We can talk alone in my Uncle J’onn’s apartment in Chicago,” she had reluctantly agreed. The fact that she had come off as if she’d been taking a cue from Conner hurt bad enough, but the fact that she clearly hadn’t wanted to talk with him had hurt so much that he had barely been able to keep it together.

La’gaan had managed to keep it in until they exited the zeta-beam access point in Chicago. He had _wanted_ to hold back until they got to her Uncle’s apartment, he hadn’t wanted to make her more upset with him, but he couldn’t help himself. The need to know was too demanding to keep silent once they were away from their team. So he had burst out with, “I can’t wait anymore, I have too many questions. Why have you been avoiding me? Why haven’t you returned my calls? What’s going on between you and Conner?”

And she’d looked… surprised. Startled even. “Nothing! I-I mean not what you’re thinking!”

“Then what? Angelfish, please!” He had been dangerously close to cracking, breaking down and just pleading with her to explain what was going on, what was up with the bizarre silent communication between her and Conner, what had he done to make her so upset that she didn’t want anything to do with him, what could he do to be better, would she even give him a _chance_ to be better? 

And that had been when Deathstroke and Tigress turned up, making it all too clear they were after M’gann. La’gaan fought with everything he’d had, absolutely desperate to keep them from capturing her, but he hadn’t been good enough. _Not… good… ENOUGH._ The pain from his broken leg had only _just_ outweighed the pain of knowing he’d failed her. And in that brief moment when he hadn’t known if Deathstroke was going to kill him or not, when Deathstroke made a snide comment referring to him as an ‘animal’ and suggesting that he’d ‘put him out of his misery’, as unreasonable as it was part of La’gaan felt like he’d _deserved it_. Because he hadn’t been able to save her.

“I… tried… to warn… _you_.”

When La’gaan had come to in the hospital wing of Star Labs he immediately had tried to get out of the bed. Broken leg or no, he had _needed_ to save M’gann. So when Conner and Dick held him down, forcing him to stay in the bed, he had struggled and fought for all he was worth— never mind the fact that the pain meds had pretty much wiped out his capacity to actually fight. He had been so desperate when Dick told him that he couldn’t do anything for M’gann in the condition he was in, that he’d snapped out, “Then what about him?! Why isn’t _he_ rescuing her?!” His rage and frustration, his wild need to get her back, and his unreasoning anger at himself boiled over and he directed it all at Conner. “I know you dumped her, but do you _really_ hate her that much?!”

For the first time La’gaan had seen a look in Conner’s eyes that he hadn’t really seen before. A mixture of rage, grief, and something La’gaan hadn’t been able to place at the time. Sympathy. “You have _no idea_ what I feel for her!” Conner had yelled. At the time La’gaan had taken it as dangerously close to a confession that Conner was still in love with M’gann. At the time he hadn’t known what he knew now: there had been some fondness and legitimate concern for M’gann— that much was true— but there had also been a great deal of anger at her. Anger for what she had done to him, for what she had done to Kaldur, and for what Conner had realized she had done to La’gaan.

And then Dick dropped the bomb that Kaldur hadn’t betrayed them, that Artemis wasn’t dead, and that Artemis was Tigress. It was easier to blame Dick for keeping secrets. Easier to focus on that than the sudden sick feeling that not only had he failed M’gann completely, he had violently attacked one of his closest friends needlessly. “ _You should have told me!_ ”

And it had been Conner who had said, as calmly as he could, “No. Nightwing is our leader. We put our trust in him. I’m sure he didn’t keep this from us, _all_ of us, without having his reasons.” La’gaan’s blame for Dick died and he had calmed down somewhat, it was difficult to argue with that sort of calm logic, but when they left the room that left him alone with his thoughts.

“I tried to warn you.”

His thoughts had been calm for only so long, and then that mental circling began again. He’d tried to hurt his friend. M’gann was captured. He had failed M’gann and he couldn’t go save her. M’gann was with Artemis and Kaldur and they were all in danger. His leg was broken and he couldn’t save them. He couldn’t leave and he couldn’t save them. He was a failure. A broken leg didn’t heal quickly. He had known that if she was going to be saved he wouldn’t be involved, and that _hurt_. She had already been unhappy with him. How much more unhappy would she be when she found out that he hadn’t been involved in saving her? Would she be so unhappy she would leave him? With how she had been reacting to Conner and with Conner’s reaction to his own accusation, did that mean that she would leave him to get back together with Conner? Well why wouldn’t she? He was a failure. He’d failed her. He hadn’t been able to save her. He wouldn’t be able to save her. He had already made her unhappy before Deathstroke and Ti-Artemis had arrived, and the fact that he couldn’t save her had meant only one thing in his mind: she would be disappointed in and even unhappier with him. There was no reason for her to stay with him. Had it been possible at the time, and had his leg not been in an elevated sling, La’gaan would have curled into a ball as he had cried. Instead he covered his face with both hands and just tried to stay silent.

“I tried to warn you.”

And after she had been gotten out, saved from Manta’s ship after all those weeks by careful work on Artemis’s part, La’gaan had tried to call her. He needed to talk to her. He had needed to know that she was okay. He had needed to let her know that he’d been concerned, that he’d worried, and that he was just _so relieved_ she was safe… but she didn’t answer his call. She did… not… answer. Every last shred of hope he had slowly built up that she wasn’t upset with him was destroyed. He hadn’t saved her. He hadn’t been involved in saving her. It didn’t matter that he had been healing from having his leg broken, _he hadn’t been there when she needed him_. La’gaan had been alone when he tried to call her. And when she hadn’t answered he’d felt like his heart was breaking. His fault… all his fault… he hadn’t been there and she didn’t want anything to do with him and he’d failed her and— too much. The mug of tea he’d been drinking shattered against the wall as he’d screamed. He’d fallen back against the wall, sliding down to sit as he stared numbly at the mess across the room while telling himself over and over that he’d failed her, he hadn’t been good enough, he would never be good enough, M’gann hated him, she didn’t want him, she wouldn’t have him and he would deserve every last bit of it because _he wasn’t good enough_. 

“I tried to warn you.”

He went back to Atlantis. Being on the surface had been too much, _hurt_ too much. Everything had been spiraling to an end and he knew it, but he didn’t want to think about it. He had hoped that if he gave her space that M’gann would eventually forgive him and let him come back. He had hoped… but when it didn’t happen that way he hadn’t been surprised.

“I tried to warn you.”

When she came to bring him back to the surface his hope had a brief resurgence, but then she mentioned that she wanted to take the bioship back up rather than just swimming back— so they could ‘talk’. He had felt like his heart dropped. This was it, she was ending it. But… he _had_ to try, to plead with her, to hope she could forgive him for not having been good enough. He had to. Because if she could have given him just _one_ more chance he would have been better; he would have worked harder, he would have paid more attention to the little things, he would have showered her with affection, gotten her presents, _anything_ … just for her to let him stay with her.

So when she had said, “This isn’t going well. I’m sorry,” he had tried to keep his desperation in check. If he had showed how desperate he’d been La’gaan had been certain she would have been even more displeased with him.

“You’re sorry? I’m the one getting dumped.” The very idea that she would apologize for leaving him had never even occurred to him. In that moment he had honestly felt that she hadn’t needed to apologize to him about anything, and if anything he should have been the one apologizing to _her_ for not being good enough.

“La’gaan, try to understand. All those weeks in captivity gave me time to think, to gain clarity. I know now I haven’t been fair to you.” La’gaan hadn’t known it at the time, but she had probably realized what she had done to him and that it had been wrong, and for his sake she had decided to end it. The problem was, was that La’gaan hadn’t had that realization at the time. He had honestly felt that she hadn’t done anything wrong, and if she would just take him back he would do _better_.

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?”

She had been firm. “You don’t see it yet. But the hard truth is, we only got together because you made me feel better about myself. And that’s not a relationship. That’s selfishness.”

His desperation crept in. That she was saying she had done anything wrong when he thought she hadn’t _hurt_. Had she come out and outright said she had abused him he would have vehemently denied it. “That’s just how it started Angelfish!” he had blurted, “What matters is what it might become.”

He had wanted _so badly_ for her to agree, for that to sway her, for her to decide to try again, but instead she said, “Except we’ll never be any more to each other than we are right now.”

Yet again his desperation had boiled over and so he’d blamed the only source he could possibly think of that wasn’t himself or M’gann. “Neptune’s beard! This is about Conner, isn’t it?”

“No. It isn’t about him or you. It’s about me. I can’t give you what you want: to be something other than my rebound guy. And you deserve more than that.”

It _hurt_. Had La’gaan been alone in that moment he would have started throwing things, breaking things, using every last ounce of magic he had at his disposal to destroy almost everything around him. He hadn’t been good enough. He would never be good enough. She didn’t want him anymore. She wouldn’t give him another chance. And for the first time in the entire time he had known her, La’gaan had allowed his anger to be directed at her. “You’re right, M’gann, I do,” he had growled, even as everything in him was screaming that he deserved _nothing_ if he was not good enough for _her_.

“I tried to warn you.”

When they had arrived at base he stormed off, claiming that he was going to watch TV. The door wasn’t even closed when he heard M’gann ask Dick about Conner. ‘Not about Conner’— _right_. Sure, he’d turned on the TV and angrily flopped onto the couch, but he hadn’t paid attention to what was on. No, instead his mind had continued in an emotionally self-destructive spiral, musing over everything he had done down to the tiniest detail and what he possibly could have done different that would have resulted in M’gann not throwing him aside like so much garbage.

Hadn’t she been the one who had said, “Please don’t leave me alone”? Hadn’t she been the one who told him, when he had confessed that he had thought he couldn’t compare to Conner, that after Conner dumped her she had felt insecure and like no one could want her? Hadn’t she been the one who had said “You make me happy”? Hadn’t she admitted that he made her feel good about herself? Didn’t that count for anything? Didn’t it help with her esteem? Hadn’t he always fought back his stress and worries so he could focus on her needs and reassuring her? Hadn’t he tried hard enough to keep his problems from becoming hers? Hadn’t he apologized _again and again_ for how he hadn’t seemed able to keep himself from being riled up by the fear that M’gann would wake up and realize one day that he was nothing and leave him for Conner? Hadn’t she been the one to reassure him time and time again, “I’m insecure too. I’m worried too. You’re happy with me, right? I don’t know what I would do without you if you weren’t with me tomorrow”? Hadn’t he been willing to do _anything_ for her?

But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough for her. He had never been good enough for her. _And she wanted Conner._ Yes, part of him had wanted to be angry at her, but he was more angry at himself and it was easier to be angry at Conner than it was to be angry at her. Looking back on it now he felt like the biggest idiot for not realizing what a huge red flag that had been. Then again there was a lot he hadn’t paid attention to that he should have.

“I tried to warn you.”

For about five days La’gaan had swung wildly between hating himself for not being good enough for M’gann and hating Conner for being the one she obviously wanted, and trying to focus on other things. The ‘focusing on other things’ usually got disrupted by him having random instances of ‘I wanna tell M’gann about this!’ and then quickly realizing he _couldn’t_ without probably making her dislike him even more. It was probably fortunate that the mission to tear apart the meeting between the Reach and the Light came up. That and the days following, what with Wally’s death and everyone coming down from the close brush with the annihilation of the world had been enough to distract him from his self-loathing in spades. It didn’t matter that he and M’gann had had a brief moment after he’d saved her from the fire-snake Klarion had sent after her, it didn’t matter that that moment had almost rekindled his hope— when things had settled it was clear she wouldn’t budge. He still hadn’t put everything together.

No, the realization came _after_.

“I tried to warn you.”

About four days after the world had almost ended, La’gaan had had a nightmare. In it he had been in the living room of their new base, not really paying attention to what was on the TV. Then M’gann came in. At first he hadn’t paid her any attention, but then M’gaan had said she wanted to talk to him. She had said that it was about their relationship, that she knew they had both messed up and she wanted to talk about what they could do better, but that she had wanted them to have the conversation in a more private place. La’gaan hadn’t hesitated; in the dream he had been every bit as desperate to get back together with her as he had been in his waking life, if not more so. Getting to the more private location had been fuzzy in that typical dream-logic way, but once there they were completely alone. A lot of the conversation was fuzzy and hard to recall, but there had been something… something about the two of them deciding that they each needed a permanent reminder to treat each other correctly and to stay with each other no matter what. And there had been an agreement that if they decided to get back together they wanted it to be permanent.

As desperate as he had been to agree to anything she suggested in that dream, he hadn’t hesitated. “Yes, _anything!_ ”

And when she brought out the knife and asked, “Are you sure? Because if we do this we’re never backing out,” though he’d had his misgivings he had agreed anyway. (Dream logic _sucked_.) And that was when she said that she wanted to carve her name onto his chest— ‘Megan’ rather than ‘M’gann’ though, and then have him do the same to her. (Seriously, dream logic was _fucking stupid_ as far as he was concerned. Even if she had been scarred, she was a Martian; she could shift away any scar so that it may as well have never existed. Thinking back on it made him feel sick.)

Thanks to how desperate he’d been in the dream, he had agreed. He had agreed because the first thought to run through his head was that what she wanted and her happiness was more important than what he wanted and always would be. And he’d given in. He remembered the searing pain of that nightmare as she had gone to work, cutting into his chest while he had tried to lay still and just let her. He remembered how in the dream he hadn’t wanted to look until she was done because he had known he would have stopped her. He remembered how in the dream he had told himself, _‘She is trying to show that she will always love me.’_ And he remembered the horror of looking at it after she had finished.

He remembered looking down and seeing plain as day the Atlantean word ΜΙΓΑΣ. ‘Impure’. The same filthy slur that got aimed at any non-human-looking Atlanteans by the purists. The same word that had centuries’-worth of hate behind it. The same word that the purists had carved into Neptune-only-knew how many people just as a way to send the very clear message that if the purists had been in control they would all be _dead_. And he remembered looking up at her in horror at what she had done, and she _laughed_.

It didn’t matter that La’gaan had bolted awake, that he had run to the bathroom and only just got there in time before he had started vomiting. It didn’t matter that he _knew_ it was a dream, a nightmare, and that it hadn’t been real. It didn’t matter that he had known M’gann would never do something that cruel. It didn’t matter that he had been terrified to fall asleep over the next several days due to the fear that he would dream it again. It didn’t even matter that for several days after that nightmare he had had to check his chest again and again just to be certain it hadn’t happened. The message of the nightmare had been clear: he had given too much to M’gann, hadn’t asked for enough for himself, and she had taken advantage of it. It took those several days for him to calm down enough to process that she _had_ taken advantage of him, and then to start trying to figure out _how_.

“I tried to warn you.”

On July 9th, two weeks and a day after his nightmare, was when Conner sought him out— and when the details finally started to fall into place. 

Everyone had been restless; outside of patrols and missions most of them stayed away from their bases or the Watchtower so they could stay closer to family for a while. Only a few of them, those of them who had lived in one of the various bases (like La’gaan), had really stuck around. La’gaan had also been avoiding M’gann the entire time— although for about four days that hadn’t been hard to do since she, Conner, and Gar had been on Mars. As such, he hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be in the team’s temporary safe-house. He had been brooding in the living room with the TV on, this time on a random calming music channel so he didn’t really have to pay attention to it while he was lost in thought, when Conner had made his presence known.

“La’gaan.”

La’gaan’s eyes had snapped to see Conner leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. A mix of feelings had welled up— the annoyance that had become a habit throughout the entire time he’d been with M’gann, the frustration at his own feelings of inadequacy, and the anger at the thought that the Kryptonian had come to rub his face in the fact that M’gann had gone back to him. And there was also the shame and discomfort he had regarding M’gann and the nightmare he’d had. “What do _you_ want?” he had snarled, immediately on the defensive.

Rather than rising to the bait, Conner had answered, “I want to talk.”

“You want to talk? About what? Or did you just want to brag that you’ve got M’gann back?” La’gaan had snapped, unable to keep himself from blurting out the last comment.

Conner had given a slightly annoyed sigh, but kept his cool as he answered. “No. I’m not back together with M’gann. I never will be. No matter how bad she wants it.” 

That answer had left La’gaan stunned. His first impulse was to demand to know why Conner _wouldn’t_ want to be with her again— but then the memory of that nightmare flashed through his mind and he tamped it down. “Then _what_?”

“About what she did.”

“What do you mean?”

Conner had moved away from the doorframe and deliberately closed the door before looking back to La’gaan and saying, “She did a lot of things that she shouldn’t have— to _both_ of us. And honestly I don’t think anyone else is going to get it the way I do.”

“What are you _saying_?!”

“She lied to and manipulated _both_ of us La’gaan. It was abuse, plain and simple.” 

To have it so bluntly put had felt like a punch in the gut. Everything in him wanted to deny it. And yet… and yet… La’gaan had stayed put, and he listened. And by the end of it he had wanted to start sobbing because every last bit of it was true, but he hadn’t been able to let himself cry in front of Conner.

“She has a way of making everything about her…” La’gaan had never stopped to think about it before, but it was true. How many times had he voiced some concern only for her to seemingly offer sympathy which inevitably would turn into him comforting her? “…She has a talent for making you think that her being happy and smiling is the most important thing in the world.” Neptune’s _beard_ , that was true. It had consumed almost every waking moment when he hadn’t been focused on missions. “…And when you try to explain that you’re unhappy with something she’s doing she tends to try to distract you from it or gives empty promises that she’ll do better or she’ll change, all while putting pressure on you to change or become ‘better’ by her definition.” That one had hurt. That one had made La’gaan feel as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and thrown on the floor. How many times had he fallen for that? How many times had he given in or blamed himself for not being ‘good enough’ for her? “She tries to push people into roles that fit the way she wants her life to be without stopping to consider if that’s who those people want to be.” It was true. La’gaan had always felt he was chasing some unobtainable standard of what she wanted him to be while he was with her. “I’m pretty sure she flaunted you in front of me on purpose in an effort to make me jealous.” Was that…? There _had_ been an abnormally high number of incidents where he and M’gann had been together just as Conner came in the room— often times with her having led the way to various places just moments beforehand. “She played both of us. Pulled our strings and turned us into such tangled wrecks that we didn’t even realize it. And she did it in a way that when we couldn’t fit what she wanted us to be… I don’t know about you, but I blamed myself.” La’gaan had been reeling. It all matched. It all fit. And hearing it said… it was so _obvious_ how wrong it was. 

“In the beginning… did you know?” The question was raw and desperate, ragged with the sudden realization that he had been seriously hurt and hadn’t known until that moment.

“No. I hadn’t even been around long enough to have even the slightest clue.”

Understanding dawned and La’gaan had blurted, “Did you even— when the two of you started dating did she even—”

“She never even asked,” Conner had admitted before bluntly adding, “And at the time I didn’t even know I could say ‘no’. So I just did what I thought I was supposed to. No one seemed to think that anything was wrong with us dating— probably due to the weird situation regarding my age and the amount of knowledge I had at the time— and she played everything off with that sweet demeanor so nobody thought anything was wrong. You know how she is. Do you honestly think any of the others would have looked at her with her upbeat personality and me with my temper and thought for a second that I _hadn’t_ agreed to be in the relationship?”

“Neptune’s beard…”

Conner had tapped the side of his own head as he said, “For all the information I have stored up here that I was force-fed, there are random gaps. Some aren’t that big a deal, but others are huge. Information, social cues, things that are or aren’t seen as acceptable… Back then I didn’t even know about _consent_. She was in her 40s when we first met. I’d barely been awake and coherent for a couple _months_ before she pulled me into the relationship. And I just… did what I felt like I was supposed to. She gave me my name, had an obvious idea of what she expected me to be, and I didn’t even think about questioning it because I didn’t really know that I could and I had no idea what the hell I was doing.”

La’gaan’s eyes had gone wide. “Did she know?”

“She knew where I had come from, what I had been through, but I don’t think she got it. I don’t think she _understood_. The biggest mistake the others made when it came to me early on was assuming that because I knew so much that I was perfectly fine and knew exactly what I was doing. When it came to me I don’t think she was doing it on purpose at first, or if she was that she wasn’t fully thinking through what she was doing, but she had every opportunity to use me and mold me into what she wanted me to be— and she took it.”

La’gaan had gone silent, processing that information for a few moments with only the music from the TV breaking the silence. Finally he had said, “And you’re saying she did the same to me, only I had the advantage of having lived longer and having more experience.”

Conner had raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me that isn’t the truth? Because I can think of several instances where it was painfully obvious to me that she was jerking you around.”

“…No. You’re right,” La’gaan had grudgingly admitted, not wanting to look at Conner. Once again silence had stretched, the serene music in the background having done nothing to help calm La’gaan down. “…Why did you break up with her?” He had to know. He knew he hadn’t had the strength to turn away from her, but Conner hadn’t had the length of time that La’gaan had had. To have her twisting and manipulating as part of the very fabric of his life almost from the start… La’gaan couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine _not knowing any different_ and then breaking free from it.

“You know about how she was mentally frying people?” Conner had asked. La’gaan nodded. “I tried to confront her about it. She tried to get me to let it go, to pull me into one of those episodes of promising she’d do better and then trying to make me feel guilty for ‘upsetting’ her, but I wasn’t going to play along. I told her that she needed to tell someone what she was doing or that I would. She didn’t like that. I’m not sure if she just panicked or got angry that I wasn’t going with the program, but she went into my head and tried to make me forget.”

La’gaan had felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe. “She…”

“That’s why I’ll never be with her again. That’s why I dumped her. Once that sort of trust is broken it can’t ever be gotten back.”

“Who… who else knows?” For a moment it had looked like Conner wasn’t going to answer as he got up and headed for the door. “Conner! Who else _knows_?”

Conner had paused with his hand on the doorknob before looking back to La’gaan. “Tim.”

“Just him?”

“Can you think of anyone better at keeping secrets and watching everyone’s backs than one of the Bats?” Conner had said, dry and morbid amusement in his tone. “Besides, I’d say she learned her lesson on that count with me. And with what happened to Kaldur… I think she obviously got the wake up call she needed.”

“…Why didn’t you tell anyone else?”

“Because… I was hoping that she would have realized her mistakes with me. I was hoping she wouldn’t do to anyone else what she did to me. That’s the sick thing with abuse—even when you know it’s wrong there’s a part of you that still cares about the person who did it and just wants them to be a better person. There’s a part of you that always wants to give them another chance. And that played into why I didn’t say anything, and why I didn’t tell anyone else that she was frying people’s minds. And do you want to know the _really_ sick thing?”

“…What?”

“Back when she tried to make me forget… when I forced her out of my head? I decided right then and there that I was going to give her a chance to tell the others what she had been doing, but that even if she didn’t I wasn’t going to say anything unless I caught her frying another person’s mind. And she did. On Rimbor. And I didn’t say anything because without what she had done we wouldn’t have known about the Kroloteans and the Reach. And again here on Earth. Same thing. She did it right in front of me, and I didn’t say anything because we got valuable information from it. _Even though I knew it was wrong._ That’s another reason I can’t go back to her; because if I do I’ll just fall right back into that same damned pattern and the last thing I want is to be in that hell again. And that’s why I told Tim; because I know _he_ at least will handle any issues with her rationally when I _can’t_.”

La’gaan had swallowed nervously, barely able to get his question out. “And me? When did you realize…?”

“That she was doing the same to you?” La’gaan had nodded. “…Too late. By the time I looked past how damned insufferable I thought you were and realized that she was doing to you what she did to me it was too damned late. I tried to warn you. I tried talking to you and telling you outright, but…”

“But I wasn’t listening. I get it chum.” Getting those words out had been harder than it should have been. La’gaan had almost felt like he was choking with the tears he had been suppressing.

Conner had looked down before saying, “La’gaan, last thing… I know it doesn’t mean much, but if you need to vent about any of this… any of the _crap_ that happened while you were with her… call me.”

“…Why?” La’gaan had been genuinely baffled, not expecting the offer or that Conner would care enough.

And Conner had met his eyes again and said, “Because I _get it_.” And then he left.

And then La’gaan had had time to think.

 

“I tried to warn you.”

As La’gaan curled in a ball on his bed, trying not to scream as he sobbed, he wished he had never had to hear those words, knowing everything they represented. Conner had been right. He had tried to warn La’gaan about M’gann and what she was capable of, and he hadn’t listened.  
Conner had tried to warn La’gaan, but the warning came too late.


End file.
